Jane Trout was the classic ‘mean girl’ at Midwestern High. She was almost proud of the description. She walked around with her nose in the air and her flowing red hair bouncing about her shoulders. Yes, she had a natural exterior beauty, but her interior was ugly, ugly, ugly.
Things came easy to Jane. Her parents were both doctors with successful medical practices and they lived in a big house with a large swimming pool that was “the place” every summer to hang out at. That is, if you were cool. If you weren’t cool, Jane let you know it. Jane was intelligent, athletic and confident. She was the captain of the cheerleading squad, and a star of the volleyball team. She wore the newest fashions that fit her perfectly. Her “friends” had more fear than affection for her, for crossing her would mean immediate social demotion. When she walked the halls, the crowds parted before her like Moses and the Red Sea.
Mr. Milton had been the drivers ed instructor at the school for 20 years. He was slightly overweight, wore ill fitting clothes and always had a bit of body odor about him. The high school students made fun of him, mostly behind his back, but he was not naive. He knew he was the butt of their jokes, and it pained him. But it had been that way as long as Rupert Milton could remember. He twitched when he remembered the very first time he was called a nerd. It was the second day of kindergarten, and the teacher told the kids to partner up. Nobody wanted to partner with Rupert, and since there were an odd number of students, he was the only one without a partner. The kindergarten teacher had to partner with him. The other students laughed, and the “nerd” label stuck...permanently. Most kids when he was in school left him alone, but the “cool” kids were cruel, and went out their way to let him know he would never be one of them.
While most things came easily to Jane Trout, one thing particularly vexed her. She had failed her drivers ed test twice. Of course she aced the written tests, but the driving portion she failed. In truth, it was because she wasn’t able to practice. Her parents were far too busy with their careers and social lives to take her out for driving practice. Her parents dangled the incentive of a brand new sports car in front of her should she pass, but they couldn’t give her what she really needed, which was time next to her in the car. Not being able to drive was becoming a serious stain on her “cool” reputation. She had managed to keep it a secret that she had failed the first two tests, but she had only one chance left to pass. If she failed the third time, it would mean she would have to take the class all over again, and delay her drivers license by at least 6 months. Her reputation would not survive if she failed a third and final time.
Mr. Milton took his job seriously. He believed in the importance of his role. To him, his work was truly a matter of life and death. He would tolerate no short cuts and he was unmoved by pressure. In fact, he failed the son of Midwestern High’s principal the first time he took the test, and he did not hesitate to do so.
Jane Trout nervously entered the car for her third and final drivers test. As she slid behind the drivers seat, a wave of body odor assaulted her senses. She recoiled at the smell and her whole body shuddered. She couldn’t help herself, and turned toward him with a look that said, “you stink.” Mr. Milton saw her shudder next to him. He looked at her, arrogant, fashionable, and judgemental, and he shuddered. In that split second, the pain and bitterness of 40 years welled up inside him.
Jane would need 15 points out of 20 to pass the test: 10 maneuvers worth two points each. After the first 9 maneuvers she had managed to accumulate 14 points. It would all come down to parallel parking, the last and hardest maneuver of all. She would need at least one of the two points to pass. Mr. Milton had been as objective as he could be up to this point, but he was in no mood to give her the benefit of the doubt. She would need to impress him with her parallel parking, or he would fail her. Janes hands were clammy. Her characteristic confidence was gone, and she was downright afraid of failure. And, uncharacteristically of her, she had a moment of clarity about her past cruelty to nerds everywhere, and in particular to Mr. Milton, whom on multiple occasions she had mocked.
She lined up the car parallel to the parked car in front of the empty space. She started to back up but as she did, Mr. Milton said, “Minus one, you didn’t look in the rearview mirror before you started backing up!” She haltingly continued, shaken by his declaration and aware that she had only one possible point left between passing or failure. She eased the car into the space and as she did, she bumped the curb ever so slightly. Would he subtract the final point? Jane knew for a fact that some of her friends had bumped the curb hard, but still received a point. She look over at Mr. Milton, and he looked at her.
The End